


This Silence is Deafening- Lance & Stumbling & Staggering

by the_sinnamon_roll_writes



Series: Bad Things Happen [24]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Driven insane, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Klance if you squint, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, M/M, Men Cuddling, Mistaken Identity, Sensory Deprivation, but not all the way, but that got overshadowed, but they aren't great, cause really it's all mostly platonic, hance if you so desire, honestly I kinda intended there to be a bit of pining Keith, keith refers to it as ADD not ADHD though, so read this as whatever relationships you like, so they aren't intentionally bad, the bad guys don't really show up but they think they have a galran, the world needs more platonic men cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sinnamon_roll_writes/pseuds/the_sinnamon_roll_writes
Summary: Lance is mistaken for someone he's not and gets thrown into one of his worst nightmares. And he's not sure how much he can take before he cracks.
Relationships: Hunk/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Bad Things Happen [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1212720
Comments: 4
Kudos: 98





	This Silence is Deafening- Lance & Stumbling & Staggering

**Author's Note:**

> Would've gotten this up sooner, but I'm sick, and looking at a screen gives me a headache :(

Lance was a person who interacted with his surroundings. He liked to see and hear and touch and smell- he’d been given his senses for a reason, and he put them to good use. Even at night, he would sleep with music playing, in the softest bed he could find, wearing a face mask to ensure his skin would feel fresh and clean the next day. He did everything he could to maximize the sensations he got from his senses. Peace and quiet had never appealed to him- it made him anxious when there wasn’t a litany of things happening for him to focus on. 

Back home, Lance had grown up in a large family. It was familiar to hear people regularly chatting or singing or humming in the background, to have the scent of someone cooking or baking filling the air, to be surrounded in bright, vivid colors. If nothing else, the constant roar of the ocean had always been there. 

His life was never truly quiet or still, and he never really wanted it otherwise. 

So naturally, somehow, the very first time he’d gotten captured, he’d been thrown into an anechoic chamber all by himself. 

One of the most frustrating parts had been that it wasn’t _really_ his captor’s fault. _Technically_ they were allies- they just didn’t know he was a member of Voltron. And they hadn’t believed him when he tried to explain to them that no, he wasn’t a Galran spy, and if they would just contact the Castle, they could get this all sorted out, easy peasy. But, of course, that’s exactly what a Galran spy would say, right? 

They’d told him that they would be contacting Voltron, but the way in which it was snarled had Lance thinking that they’d be taking their sweet time doing so. 

And in the meantime, they couldn’t be bothered to offer him any basic comforts. No, why would they try and make a suspected spy comfortable? Instead he was locked away, out of sight in an empty six-by-six room. 

It was a place out of his worst nightmares. Completely barren and silent, there was absolutely nothing to engage his senses in. The inside of the small room was completely colorless. It absorbed even the slightest of sounds. The only thing he could smell was himself, and that was something he was so familiar with he hardly even noticed it. 

The white light was harsh. The white walls were even worse. After the first few hours, he had started seeing colors, swirling and mixing. At first, he’d almost been grateful for something different to look at. But now they simply made him nauseous. Occasionally he’d blink, and the world would flicker to black briefly, then flood with white again as soon as they opened. He’d tried keeping them shut- the still black had been preferable to the blinding white or the stomach-churning colors. But soon enough the colors had returned, and the buzzing in his skull had gotten too loud to ignore.

It hadn’t taken long for Lance to lose track of how long he’d been in there for. Long enough for the blood pulsing in his head to become an unrelenting roar, louder than the ocean he had loved so much. He hadn’t been fed in who-knows how long, and his stomach sounded like an earthquake every time it growled. The tears that fell down his cheeks sounded like heavy rain when they hit the floor, and every breath he took sounded like a hurricane. The longer it went on, the more certain he was that he could hear his neurons firing away in his skull, pounding painfully with every thought he had. He’d tried, in a moment of delusional desperation, covering his ears with his hands to try and drown it out. But how does one drown out their own thoughts? The only effect it had was to amplify the _boom boom boom_ of the blood rushing through his hands. 

It was odd- the room absorbed every sound made inside of it. But somehow, over the course of however long he was there, the silence had grown louder than he could bear. 

He wanted to scream and plead to be let out, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good, and the way the anechoic walls absorbed his voice had sounded like something out of a horror movie. For some time, he wondered if he threw up if they would let him out, if only to clean up the vomit from the pristine white floors. He’d do anything for just a touch of stimulation. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything in him to vomit up. Not for lack of trying. They hadn’t fed him anything since he’d been imprisoned- but he was still alive, so at least he knew it hadn’t been more than three weeks. If he had to guess, in a moment of clarity, he likely would’ve said he’d been there a week, give or take a few days. However, those moments were becoming few and far between, and his irrational mind insisted he’d been here for years and years. 

They would slide water in to him in a white cup to sip on. It was the one, meager stimulation he’d been granted. At first, he’d actually thought it was simply irritating. But now he looked forward to them. For the flash of color he got when the door was cracked, and the beautiful sounds of the outside, and the smooth, refreshing taste of water. Getting a reminder that the outside world _actually_ existed was so much better than being totally isolated, like he was the rest of the time. 

Somehow, without even knowing him, they had developed the most effective possible torture he could ever imagine. A very infinitesimal part of him had to admire the ingenious simplicity of it. But the rest of him wanted to rip each and every one of his jailers apart. Which honestly surprised him. Lance had never thought of himself as particularly vicious. 

Apparently it just took a bit of solitary confinement to bring it out. 

Keith would be proud. 

Lance felt like it should be a miracle that he even remembered Keith. That he could remember anything beyond this room, his new reality. He was a bit disappointed in himself that he’d resigned himself to this so quickly. No doubt the team was looking for him- he recognized that on a rational level. He was just starting to think that they would end up being too late. 

However, just as he was starting to think that, something wonderful happened: the door opened. 

At first, it came as a surprise- he’d _just_ received some water, why would they be coming back already? Then something like hope sparked in his mind. Maybe whoever it was was coming to let him out. If that were the case, Lance found himself desperately wanting to kiss them. 

Something else was different too. The door wasn’t opened just a crack, like it usually was when they slid in liquids for him to drink. No, it burst open, like whoever was on the other side had thrown their entire self at the door to knock it open. 

“Lance!”

Lance flinched at the first sound he’d heard in ages that hadn’t come from his own body. It was only a soft hiss, but to him, it was louder than a shotgun being fired next to his ear. 

But _God,_ did he want more. A croaking cry escaped his lips that he hoped sounded like _“please say something else. I’ll do anything, just let me hear a voice again, please please please!”_

He was too far gone to be embarrassed when it came out as more of a slurred “puleeeessss say mur!”

It was hard to say if his message had gotten across or if the wonderful Voice just wanted to talk some more. Either way, Lance wasn’t complaining. “Hey- hey, Lance, look at me. You’re okay now. Did they have you in here this whole time?”

Lance nodded immediately, scared that the Voice would stop if he didn’t answer. 

“Fuck. Okay, come on, we’re getting you out of here. We’re going home, alright? It won’t be quiet there, and you’ll have all of us to talk to as much as you want.” 

Oh, bless this Voice. It seemed to understand Lance’s need for sound, and he appreciated that. As it kept up a steady stream of words, Lance slowly began to realize that the Voice was more than just a voice. He recognized it. Lance blinked several times as his brain began to catch up with what was happening. The world around him started to focus as a color that wasn’t white or back or some sickening psychedelic swirl came into his line of vision. 

Red. 

He was looking at Keith. 

Had he been in his right mind, Lance wouldn’t’ve dreamed of doing what he did next. He launched himself up, swaying dangerously before staggering forward and into Keith’s arms. His inner ear was protesting the sudden moment, and he wasn’t able to keep himself vertical. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, and he gratefully allowed himself to be held up. 

Lance soaked up the physical contact like a sponge, not even trying to hold back his small whimpers. Almost imperceptibly, Keith began pulling Lance backwards out of the small chamber he’d been locked in. The Red Paladin kept his eyes carefully trained on Lance’s face, not wanting to overstimulate him if he could avoid it. If Lance really had been trapped in there this whole time- nearly an entire week- then he was asking an awful lot of him to immediately jump into running around. 

The Blue Paladin looked around in wonder when they were outside. It looked like he was staring at fine art or a beautiful sunset, not the mundane insides of what amounted to the lobby of a prison. Like he was listening to birds chirping or the gentle lull of the ocean instead of the distant echo of footsteps and voices. 

In the dull lighting, it became obvious just how much of a toll this had taken on Lance. It wasn’t odd to see him looking around at things- no, the strange bit was the awed look on his face as he took it all in. 

“Whur the o’hers at?” Lance asked after they’d made it down two halls. His speech was slowly clearing up as his ears adjusted. 

“They’re sorting things out with the planet’s leaders. Come on, we’re going to the Castle, okay? You don’t have to be here anymore.”

Lance was staring at Keith like he was an angel sent to save him. Keith tried not to think about how that expression gave him butterflies. Now certainly wasn’t the time to entertain his stupid little crush, not while Lance was hardly even aware that it was Keith who was next to him. 

It took a moment to coax Lance into moving, but Keith’s gentle tugs paid off, and the Blue Paladin willingly stumbled along, like a drunk man or a toddler. Keith kept his arm under Lance’s armpits the whole time, but otherwise did nothing to interfere with the way he stumbled forward. In a circumstance like this, even Lance would say something if he needed more help. They all knew better than to try and be proud in certain situations, and this was one of those situations. 

The journey back was slow-going. Despite the sudden, overwhelming number of things his brain had to take in, Lance had never felt more wonderful. He wanted to stop and appreciate every sound, sight, and smell he took in that wasn’t in any way coming from himself. He even reveled in Keith, in the familiar, earthy scent that rolled off of him, the faint huff that came out with every breath. The Red Paladin’s arms were firm and muscular around Lance, and Lance had never known support like this could feel so wonderful. He wanted to stop and lean into the touch, but he still had _some_ self-control. And the urge to see and talk to the rest of his team was outweighing the urge to latch onto Keith. 

Showing much more patience than anyone would have thought possible, Keith did his best to entertain Lance’s impulses as much as he could while still ushering them on. He seemed to understand just how much Lance needed to absorb everything. As much as Keith personally enjoyed solitary silence, it would’ve been impossible for anyone who had spent five minutes with Lance to not know that he needed stimulation. Keith had a feeling his partner had been a child who actually _needed_ a fidget spinner to help him focus on class. 

(He knew better than to ask. Lance’s ADD seemed to be a bit of a touchy subject, if the way Hunk and Pidge had both glared are him when he’d made an offhand, insensitive joke at Lance’s expense was any indicator. He hadn’t really meant it to be hurtful, and it was something he’d apologized for profusely. Keith had been careful not to make any more comments about it- even he could recognize lines that shouldn’t be crossed. It was the first time he’d ever seen Hunk legitimately angry, and it had been frightening. And Pidge, of course, was a tiny terror when she was upset.)

So they took their time. They didn’t encounter any natives on their way, which was probably for the best, since Keith felt like he could punch the next one he came across. By the time they finally reached the Castle, Lance was able to walk mostly on his own. He would trip over his feet occasionally, but Keith was right there to catch him. 

Talking still gave him difficulties, and his words were still slurred, so he mostly stayed silent. Keith, of course, didn’t mind that. He was comfortable with relative silence, and he had to assume (given Lance’s lack of complaints) that the ambient noise around them was enough to satisfy him for now. 

Tears started to fall again when Lance saw the castle. He’d never really stopped to appreciate just how beautiful it was- suddenly he almost felt as though he could understand what Pidge had meant when she’d called it more magnificent than a sunset. (Although the next sunset Lance ended up seeing quickly changed his mind back.) The inside of the fortress was, admittedly, a bit minimalist, but it was better than his cell by leaps and bounds. 

Keith ended up leading him to the main control room where Shiro and Allura were waiting. Lance was able to walk on his own at that point, although he’d still needed the occasional gentle nudge from Keith to keep him moving along. 

Oh, the bridge was absolutely amazing. So many flashing lights and things to hear- it was a godsend. For the first time in ages, Lance remembered what it was like to be overstimulated. He wasn’t quite there yet, but he could imagine it was a possibility here. Still, he found himself thinking he could easily spend the rest of his life here. He was starting around with wide eyes, like he was taking it all in for the first time. 

It wasn’t until his eyes landed on Allura that he noticed she was talking. 

“... and they’ve issued a formal apology.” Allura was talking directly to him, he realized dumbly, and he had been inadvertently ignoring her the entire time. “We don’t need to accept though. It was you they wronged, Lance. If you wish to cut ties with them, then that’s what we’ll do.”

It was touching, really, that she was willing to give up an alliance just for him. As much as he wanted to rage against them and leave their planet to suffer any future invasions alone, he could hardly blame them for being suspicious of a total stranger. Granted, the sensory deprivation was crueler than he thought necessary. But when he thought about how out-of-sorts he was when he’d first stepped outside, he admitted that it was a good way to keep a prisoner from being able to make a solo escape. Lance sighed and shook his head. “We should accept it. We need all the help we can get.”

Allura was studying him carefully, and making him squirm. His eyes flitted to Shiro, and he was surprised to see the pride splashed all over his face. 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m proud of you, Lance,” Shiro said softly. Lance was surprised and how warm those words made him feel. “It takes a lot of strength to be able to forgive something like that.”

As much as Lance wanted to reply, he found the lump in his throat was preventing any words from coming out. He nodded weakly. “Yeah, well. We need ‘em,” he repeated lamely. “And it’s not like they didn’t have a reason- they thought I was a spy. Thought they’d captured someone on the Galra’s side, not ours. So, y’know, can’t blame ‘em too much, right?”

“That’s not an excuse. You told them you were on their side, and they chose not to listen or follow up until much later. It was indecent.”

“I just wanna move on, okay?” Lance said uncomfortably. “You guys feel free to negotiate with them, I’d just rather not be around for it. Is that okay?”

When everyone nodded, Lance took that as leave to stand up and walk away. Being around people was nice, but he felt an almost overwhelming urge to walk through the castle, just to prove to himself that he was, indeed, in a _castle_ and not stuck in some sensory-depriving broom closet. 

Before, he had never noticed the low, underlying hum that seemed to fill the air of the castle. It was the sound of countless mechanical parts moving to keep everything running, he knew. It was also strangely soothing. 

It certainly made it easier to drown out his mind insisting it could still hear his pulse pounding in his ears. Lance sighed at the thought. 

Recovery from his ordeal was certainly going to take some time. 

•••

That sleep cycle, Lance stepped into his room and gazed around. The walls were white, but it was a metallic, almost reflective white as opposed to the matte monstrosity he had been subjected to. His eyes scanned the room- it wasn’t exactly cluttered, but it certainly wasn’t quite up to the pristine conditions that Shiro generally kept. Lance’s room tended to fall somewhere between Hunk and Keith, organization-wise. And that was how he liked it. He liked having his things, and he liked his things having a place. 

(He couldn’t imagine being like Keith, who never kept anything, or like Pidge, who never let anything go. Walking into either one of their rooms was always uncomfortable for him- either too much happening or not enough.)

His room was right where he liked it. Not too boring, but not so messy it overwhelmed him. So why was he finding it hard to catch his breath? He felt itchy, like his skin had all twisted an inch to the left around his body and no longer fit quite right. Without even stepping foot into his room, Lance spun around and trudged off. He wasn’t actually sure where he was going until he found himself knocking on a familiar door and waiting anxiously for a reply. 

No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t exactly the _door_ that was familiar- it was the overall _situation_ that reminded him of being back on Earth and had an air of nostalgic familiarity. He’d lost track of the times when he’d been feeling particularly homesick and had found himself sneaking into Hunk’s room. Sometimes they just sat around and chatted until the ache in Lance’s heart that longed for his family had dulled and he could return to his own quarters. Other times, they wound up snuggled together on Hunk’s bed and swapped stories about their respective families. He felt like he practically knew Hunk’s family at this point- he’d looked forward to one day meeting them. 

Since they’d come to space, Lance had resigned himself to the possibility that he might never get the chance. 

He could only imagine how he must’ve looked when Hunk opened the door. His face felt far from composed, and at some point he realized he had wrapped his arms tightly around his midriff. He must’ve looked like something of a wreck- he certainly felt like one. 

Hunk, however, in his infinite _goodness,_ didn’t comment on it. He immediately stepped aside and let Lance in, almost like he’d been expecting it. It wouldn’t’ve been surprising if he had. The Yellow Paladin was no moron. And he knew his oldest friend like the back of his hand. 

“What’s up, Lance?”

Lance shrugged, and Hunk smiled patiently. 

“I was just getting ready to lie down, myself. Did you wanna join me?”

Lance nodded. 

“Alright, sleepover!” Hunk actually managed to look excited, and Lance was grateful that he was making this into a fun, spontaneous thing instead of the lonely, pathetic thing it actually was. Lance didn’t want to be alone, plain and simple, like a small child who had been scared by a nightmare and wanted his parents. “You need some pajamas?”

“Yeah. Could I just borrow some of yours?” He didn’t really want to go back to his room right now, even if it was only to grab something. At least, not without someone by his side. And it didn’t seem fair to just show up and ask Hunk to leave his cozy room. 

Besides, he knew Hunk would say yes. Sure enough- “of course! You know where they’re at. I’m gonna lie down, you come join me when you’re all changed. I can tell you all about Pidge’s latest project, it’s totally crazy.”

Lance inhaled deeply, and nodded, forcing a small smile as he walked over to Hunk’s dresser and pulling out some pjs to sleep in. As he changed, Hunk continued to chatter on about what Pidge had been showing him in their downtime. He didn’t try to pay super close attention; Lance was enjoying the constant stream of words filling the silence. He probably wouldn’t have understood most of it anyway. As soon as Lance was in a soft, loose shirt and boxers (he’d decided to keep it easy), he was crawling into Hunk’s bed beside him. 

The Yellow Paladin stopped his jabbering once Lance was beside him. As subtle as he could (which wasn’t incredibly subtle), Hunk stretched his arm forward to allow Lance to rest his head on his bicep. Lance accepted immediately, falling into the familiar position close to Hunk. He’d lost track, by now, of how many times they’d comforted each other like this over the years they’d known one another. Generally just being in his presence was enough to lift his mood. 

But sometimes, he just needed some snuggles.

Lance found the thought of closing his eyes to be rather distasteful. As tired as he was, a small part of him felt paranoid that he was still back in that room and had simply grown delusional. What if, when he woke back up, he was no longer in the comforting presence of his best friend? Lance didn’t think he could survive that. 

So he kept them open. He let them dance around the room, taking in all the things and colors on mercifully defined surfaces that didn’t swirl around in his vision. All the while, he listened to Hunk’s continuous breathing (he was careful not to let his own breathing sync up- he enjoyed being able to hear a distinct sound that was coming from him). 

It was enough to sooth the anxious nagging in the back of his head. It didn’t dispel it altogether, but it certainly took away some of its power. As long as he didn’t try to go to sleep, it was manageable. But when he thought of closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift away from all this, the nagging turned into screaming that he was back in the white room. 

He had sincerely hoped that Hunk wouldn’t notice the way he was determinedly taking in everything he could see. 

But of course, it was Hunk. And not much got past Hunk’s watchful eyes. The next time he looked over, he found the Yellow Paladin looking back at him, the question clear on his face: ‘why aren’t you asleep?’ Usually Lance passed out as soon as his head touched the pillow. Now nearly a half an hour had passed, and Lance was seemingly resistant to the idea of going to sleep.

Lance, unsure of how to actually answer, chose not to acknowledge it. But Hunk was never good at not being nosy, so it was only a few moments before he asked out loud and made it impossible for Lance to ignore. 

“What’s keeping you up?” he asked softly. 

Lance’s eyes blinked owlishly, a self conscious expression taking over his face. “Just... sleep sounds good and all, but I don’t know- what if I’ve just cracked? I mean, this is all so familiar, I could’ve just thought it up... you know?”

“Oh,” Hunk replied eloquently. 

“It’s... it’s dumb, I know. But every time I think about closing my eyes, that’s all I can think about.”

“It’s not dumb!” Hunk’s voice came out louder than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. He hated when his closest friend said bad things about himself, and he would never stand for it. “You’ve just been through a lot. No one expects you to jump right back into things and be just fine. We all- we all know how you need stimulation. They managed to tap into your worst nightmare and throw you right into it.”

Lance bit his lip but remained quiet, so Hunk continued. “You were like, crazy brave, man. I probably would’ve lost it if I’d been locked up like that for even half as long as you were. But you hung in there, and didn’t let it drive you insane.”

“It almost did though,” Lance whispered. For all his issues with silence, he was finding it impossibly difficult to say anything. He’d grown rather tired of his voice about two days into his captivity, and his fondness for it still wasn’t there just yet. Listening to Hunk talking steadily sounded much more appealing. 

“But it didn’t,” Hunk insisted firmly. “It didn’t, and you outlasted it. And now you’re back here with us, safe and sound. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Lance.”

“But what if-”

“I know you’re afraid. It’s alright though, man. I _will_ be here when you wake up. But I won’t be able to prove it if you don’t get some sleep.” It was a promise, and Lance was once again grateful that Hunk knew him so well. 

With another heavy sigh (mostly to try clear the lump in his throat and pass it off as nothing- a plan that failed miserably), Lance shifted closer to Hunk and allowed his arm to sling over Hunk’s torso. His head was already pillowed on Hunk’s outstretched arm, and he had to admit, he was minutes away from sleep. Probably would’ve gotten there soon enough, even without Hunk’s assurance. The prospect was much less frightening now that he had Hunk with him though. The protective arm around him was like an anchor, holding him in place, keeping him there on the Castle and not letting him go back to his imprisonment. His best friend was there for him, as always. _‘And he always knows what to do,’_ Lance thought blearily as he heard Hunk start to hum, _‘to cheer me up.’_

It was with these thoughts in mind, and with Hunk’s gentle hum in the background, Lance was very soon fast asleep. 

•••

When he woke up, he found he was still in Hunk’s room, listening to the soft snores that came with an almost soothing regularity. It took him a moment to register what that meant; he was no longer a captive. 

Lance’s heart soared, and he swore he could’ve cried for joy. The only thing stopping him was the fact that he was still in his friend’s room while that friend was asleep. Lance could be rude at times, but he wasn’t rude enough to wake up someone who had offered up a bed and comfort without judgement. 

Moving slowly, Lance shimmied off the bed and padded over to the door. He heard Hunk stirring behind him as the door hissed open, and when he glanced back, he saw the Yellow Paladin’s eyes gazing blearily up at him. Even though he didn’t quite have the words just yet, the question on Hunk’s face was clear: _what are you doing?_

“Go back to sleep,” Lance said softly. “I need to stretch my legs.”

Thankfully, Hunk seemed to accept that for what it was. His eyes began to drift shut once again, but not without offering up a lazy thumbs up. 

(Granted, they were more like thumbs sideways, given that Hunk was lying down. Lance got the sentiment either way.)

As he started walking, Lance found himself marveling at the castle around him. He’d always thought spaceships were surprisingly quiet, given the amount of energy that went into simply making them move. Now he realized that there were no shortages of _beeps_ and _trills_ and _whooshes,_ as well as a constant, underlying roar that he couldn’t quite place. 

But whatever it was, it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me where Pidge is, I did not plan for this to include anything beyond Lance being in an anechoic chamber and him being rescued by Keith. There wasn't going to be that much comfort until my friend read it and said I should include some Lance/Hunk BFF action, and I was like y'know what? I love Hunk. So yeah.
> 
> Hope you all liked it! Kudos make me smile, comments make me wiggle happily! If you'd like to request anything or just say hi, I'm right over [here.](https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/) I haven't actually posted everything I've written recently in a while because I'm lazy, but I do keep an eye on the inbox!


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